


Babylon

by Ralkana



Category: Star Trek: Voyager
Genre: Angst, Challenge Response, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Introspection, One Year Later, Post-Finale, Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-02-16
Updated: 2003-02-16
Packaged: 2017-10-29 04:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/315576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ralkana/pseuds/Ralkana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As life in the Alpha Quadrant swirls out of control, Chakotay finds himself reaching for the only peace he's ever known. Post-<i>Endgame</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Babylon

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer ~ I don't own them; Paramount does. If I owned them, I'm pretty sure they'd have been much, much happier.
> 
> Author's Note ~ Inspired by David Gray's song of the same name. Lyrics can be found [here](http://www.davidgray.com/music/discography/DG_songDetails.aspx?songid=caa9d936-46ab-4b4c-8429-251f217a0d98).

 

I entered the apartment, whistling cheerfully as the doors slid shut behind me. I was in a good mood -- probably the best mood I'd been in in months. The living area and kitchen were empty, and the apartment was silent.

"Seven? Are you here?"

"I am in the bedroom."

I wandered into the bedroom and leant against the doorjamb. I watched her as she made the bed with quick, efficient movements. She had been asleep when I had left -- rare enough, she usually escaped to her alcove in the middle of the night -- so I had left her where she was.

"Good morning," I murmured, crossing to her and kissing her cheek. She stiffened under my lips, and I bit back a sigh. So many months, and she still wasn't used to a good morning kiss. Oh, passionate kisses she understood; she was definitely familiar with foreplay and everything that happened after that. But the need for casual human contact? That was irrelevant.

She didn't respond, so I tried again. "Have you had a good morning?"

"It was satisfac--good enough," she amended, earning a small smile from me, which she returned with just the barest upward movement of her lips. It disappeared instantly, however, and she spoke again. "Although you once again neglected to clear away your breakfast dishes and utensils after you used them."

This time I didn't stop the sigh. I've never known of anyone who could nag in as dispassionate a voice as Seven. I could feel my good mood dissipating by the second. "I'm sorry, Seven. I meant to, but I was running late for my meeting with Admiral Wilcox, and I ran out of time. I apologize, and I'll try not to let it happen again."

She nodded in acknowledgement but said nothing more. I waited in vain for any interest from her regarding the outcome of the morning's meeting. After letting the silence stretch out for several more moments, I answered the unasked question.

"It was a good meeting."

"Oh? I am glad."

Another long silence.

"I've been promoted to captain."

She looked surprised at that -- finally, a reaction! -- and then she smiled. It was a brief smile, but it was full and beautiful, and I felt my good mood returning. It soared even higher when she embraced me, speaking softly into my ear.

"That is good news. I am pleased that Starfleet has recognized your efficiency and your capabilities. You will make an excellent captain. Again."

I was stunned. That was very nearly congratulations. Life with Seven was often difficult, and she could be incredibly frustrating, but at moments like that, when I could see her true emotions shine out from under years of Borg conditioning... well, then, life wasn't so bad.

"Thank you, Seven. Your good wishes mean a lot to me."

She hugged me again and then sat on the bed, pulling me with her. She kept hold of my hand -- another surprise -- as she asked, "Have they given you a posting yet?"

"Well, they offered me one, but it's not yet finalized. Actually, they've offered me a teaching post at the Academy, beginning with freshman classes in tactics and anthropology."

"Those are the subjects in which you are most interested, are they not?"

"They are," I responded, smiling.

"You will be a most efficient and... entertaining instructor. The cadets will be fortunate to have you. Perhaps you will have Icheb in one of your classes."

"Thank you," I said again. "I hadn't thought about that. He'd certainly have no difficulty in the Introduction to the Cultures of the Delta Quadrant class," I laughed. "And it might be nice to be able to keep an eye on him. But I haven't accepted the position yet."

Seven frowned. "Why not? It seems to be an excellent offer."

"Well, to be honest, it is tempting, and I'm glad that you're pleased with it. I didn't feel right about accepting it before I discussed it with you."

She looked puzzled. "It is not my decision. The offer is yours; why did you deem it necessary to discuss it with me?"

I let out a surprised laugh. "Seven, we're a couple. My decisions affect you, and your decisions affect me, especially when it comes to future plans of this magnitude."

Her puzzlement became consternation, and I began to get a sinking feeling in my gut. "Seven, what is it?"

When she spoke, her voice was soft, and she would not meet my eyes. "I... have already finalized my plans for the next several years."

I was stunned again, and this time it was not a good feeling. "Oh. What... have you decided?"

"I have accepted a place at the Vulcan Science Academy. I will leave for Vulcan in a week."

"What?"

"I am sorry, Ch -- "

"You didn't tell me. You made this decision and you didn't tell me. Were you just planning to leave? I'd come home next week and all your things would be gone? Were you planning to even say goodbye to me?"

"I had hoped you would be pleased for me."

I sighed. "I _am_ pleased for you, Seven. I'm glad you have figured out what you want to do in this quadrant. But... I had hoped that you would talk to me about a decision this big before you made it -- or at least have had the courtesy to let me know afterwards!"

"But I have just told you. I have let you know."

 _Gods, she's almost as infuriating as --_ "Seven, how long ago did you accept the place?"

"Three weeks."

"Three weeks. You've known for three weeks, and you haven't told me. And you wouldn't have told me today if I hadn't told you about my offer, would you have? _Were_ you planning to tell me? Or were you just going to leave?"

"I confess I did not know how to bring it up."

"Didn't you realize that your departure would mark a huge change in our relationship?"

"I did not consider the effect of my decision on our relationship."

"And _that's_ the problem! Dammit, Seven, that's exactly it! You don't consider the effect of _any_ of your decisions on our relationship! You act exactly as you would if this relationship didn't exist! You chose an apartment for _us_ without consulting _me_. You chose furniture for _us_ without consulting _me_. You turn down dinner invitations for both of us without even asking me if it's possible that I might want to go without you! And you never even consider those invitations, never even consider going out with me, socializing as a couple!"

"You know that I am not comfortable in large groups. I much prefer staying here, in our home, with you."

"Yes, staring at the walls, not making conversation, doing nothing, sharing nothing except sex. Sex seems to be the only connection we have, Seven, and even in that you're selfish!"

The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them, and I knew that I'd hurt her. She may have been less likely to show her feelings than others, but those feelings were there. Her eyes widened and she turned away from me, but not before I could see them fill with tears.

"Gods, Seven, I'm so sorry. I... was upset, and not thinking. I didn't mean that." I put my hand on her shoulder, and her whole body stiffened. She didn't shrug it off, but I could tell it was not welcome contact, and I removed it.

"That statement is incorrect. Perhaps you did not mean to say it, but you are not a liar, Chakotay. You do not say things you do not mean."

Before I could respond, she continued speaking. "Maybe you should consider this: everything I've learned about sex, you taught me. So if your statement is true, if I am a selfish lover, then I've learned that from you."

My anger spiked again, and hurtful thoughts fast became words. "Well if you weren't so damned -- " With an effort, I stopped, digging my fingernails into my palms. "Stop. Seven, let's just stop this. We're doing nothing but hurting each other. Spirits, that's all we've been doing lately. Maybe separation is a good thing after all. This just isn't working."

She answered without turning toward me. "It might be best if I attempt to move forward my departure date. Commander Tuvok invited me to stay with his family for some time, but I declined. I will contact him and see if it is possible for me to do so after all."

I sighed. "Seven, you don't have to -- " but before I could finish, she was off the bed and out of the room. "Seven! Seven! Wait..." But I knew it was useless. The argument was over, and decisions had been made. With a growl of frustration, I stood, and then I heard something hit the ground with a small jingling sound.

The small box had fallen out of my pocket, and it popped open when it hit the ground, sending my four shiny Captain's pips rolling and bouncing across the carpet.

I stalked out into the living area, but she was nowhere to be seen. In the time it had taken me to watch my pips roll across the carpet, she had left the apartment. I pressed my forehead against the wall and tried not to scream in anger and frustration.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

I was still in that spot sometime later, trying to meditate, when the door chimed. I ignored it the first time, but when it rang a second time, I straightened up, moving toward it to open it.

"Yes?" I snapped as the door slid open.

Five or six people stood there in Starfleet uniforms. Glancing at their gold collars and the toolkits they were carrying, I guessed they were engineers. The tall, fair man in the front blanched and stepped back at my glare.

"I'm... I'm sorry for the intrusion, sir. I'm Lieutenant Commander Graber. My team and I have orders to disconnect Seven of Nine's alcove, in order to transport it to headquarters. I'm... I'd offer to come back later, but we have to do it now."

 _Well, I guess she managed to move up her departure date..._

I stepped aside and waved them in with a curt gesture of my hand. They trooped in and stared at the alcove in awe. Apparently this wasn't the same team that had connected it to the building's power supply when Seven and I moved in because they were all certainly acting as if they'd never seen it before.

I stared with them at her alcove. Though not immense, it was large and dwarfed the living area of the apartment. _It would have made a fascinating conversation piece if we ever had company_ , I thought bitterly.

With a sigh, I tore my gaze away from it, turning to Graber. "Well, go to it, Commander. Good luck. Excuse me, I have some place else to be." _Anywhere but here_. We exchanged nods and I left the apartment as quickly as I could.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

I returned as the light was fading out of the day. I was exhausted. I'd spent the day walking and hiking the hills and parks of San Francisco, trying to focus my thoughts.

My mind was in turmoil. I felt like the last link to the past seven years of my life was breaking. At times, Seven had seemed like my only connection in this quadrant, and now that last tenuous grasp was slipping.

The apartment was truly empty now; Graber and his team had gone, taking the alcove with them. The place seemed much bigger, but it also seemed empty and desolate.

I wandered slowly through the rooms, noting the tiny differences. Seven didn't have many personal items, but I'd become quite accustomed to the ones she did have, and my eye lingered on the empty spaces. Her blanket from the Ventu girl on Ledos was gone, as was the trophy the Hirogen hunter had given her on Norcadia. The closet was half empty, and the counter in the bathroom had been cleared of her meager stock of grooming articles. She was well and truly gone.

As I turned to leave the bedroom, a glint of delicate silver caught my eye from the dresser, and my heart sank. _She could have at least taken it with her..._

I crossed the room and picked it up, feeling fine chain slide through my fingers. It was the necklace I'd made her about a month before in a fit of melancholy and romance. She had accepted it gracefully, but to my knowledge, she'd never worn it. Jewelry was, after all, irrelevant.

With a sigh, I dropped it back on the dresser and stalked out of the bedroom. I knelt on the floor in the living area, facing the window, trying to focus on the stars outside in order to meditate, but my concentration was shattered. My eye kept straying to the empty corner where her alcove had stood, the way a child will probe at a wound to feel the pain.

I eventually gave up. The fruitless meditation session was only serving to agitate me more. I seated myself at the desk, facing away from that corner, and turned on the comm terminal. Anything to take my mind out of its current restless loop.

I flicked through endless news feeds, not really focusing on any of them. I don't know how long I sat there staring as stories from all over the quadrant flowed by. One article eventually caught my attention and caught it good. It was a short article, but it wasn't the text that really got to me; it was the picture that came with it.

It was Kathryn, on the dais at the Welcome Home Ball, surveying her elegantly dressed crew, flanked by the senior staff. She looked absolutely breathtaking, and there was more pride and satisfaction on her face than we _ever_ saw in the Delta Quadrant. I felt my heart constrict within my chest at the sight and at the memories of my feelings that night.

I'd been a mess. I'd hidden it easily from Seven; even now she wasn't very astute at guessing my inner moods, but then -- months ago -- she'd had no idea how to go about it. I remember thinking over and over that if I'd just waited two more weeks I might have had a chance.

I'd watched Kathryn scrupulously those first few weeks after our return to the Alpha Quadrant, looking for _any_ sign that she felt for me any small amount of what I felt for her. But there'd been nothing. She was cordial, but that's all. She wasn't even friendly. My heart was dying even as Seven grew closer to me.

The night of the ball nearly killed me. She was so formal; she called me "Commander" all night, and she wouldn't even look me in the eye. She left without saying good night.

I tried for a little while to convince myself that she was cold because she was hurt about my relationship with Seven, but that wouldn't be the Kathryn I knew.

If Kathryn had loved me, she would have come to me and told me. Kathryn Janeway would not back down from anything, especially a little bit of light competition with Seven of Nine. If she had wanted me, she would have tried; she would have at least come to me to gauge my feelings.

Thus, her indifference meant something else. Now, sitting at the terminal and staring at her image, I could feel my anger start to rise again. I hadn't heard from her since that night. I slumped back in my chair, closing my eyes as the bitter thoughts assaulted me.

I felt betrayed, and used. Her casual dismissal of our friendship spoke volumes. Obviously the connection between us -- one of the most wonderful and meaningful friendships of my life -- meant next to nothing to her. I felt my eyes fill and pushed away that devastating thought, denying it instantly. I thought of Kathryn's eyes on New Earth, of her body language and her trust and her smile and her laugh and everything else about her.

But the corrosive thought remained, eating away at my certainty, gaining power as I remembered Scorpion, and the Equinox, and all of the times she had ignored my warnings and my advice. All of the times she had smiled soothingly, patted my arm, and gone off and done whatever she wanted to do. It was only when she needed my support again that she became friendly.

 _No!_ It couldn't have all been a ruse to keep me in line. I would have known, would have felt it. But as soon as I thought that, I closed my eyes and sighed. My years in the Delta Quadrant had painfully taught me that I wasn't a very good judge of motive and character. There was Tuvok and Seska, just to begin with, and that was without mentioning the various other lapses of judgment here and there.

I was a fool on Voyager. I was so stupid to let myself fall in love with her, to be so utterly obvious about it. I might never have told her outright, but there wasn't a person on the ship who didn't know how I felt about her. I thought of all the times that I had felt the crew's sympathetic looks, all of the times Paris had teased me, all the times B'Ela had ribbed me for wearing my heart on my sleeve. I thought of the whispered conversations that stopped abruptly when I appeared, the pitying glances that were barely hidden.

I thought of all the times that I had felt the jealous rage bubbling in my gut, the times that I had clenched my fists and bitten my lip to keep from saying something hurtful out of frustration. There was Q, and Kashyk, and Michael, and Jaffen, and those were only the ones off the top of my head. Hell, I had felt like decking Tom Paris for weeks after they'd had those damn lizard babies together!

In all that time, I had interpreted her heated glances and lingering touches as promises, and they had become vital to my continued existence. I had _lived_ for the next time Kathryn would look into my eyes, her sparkling blue eyes teasing me more than words ever could, for the next time her small hand would rest on my shoulder, my arm, over my heart. And she knew that. And then, they stopped. Her eyes had grown hard, they looked through me, and the touch of her hand had grown rarer and rarer. And I had learned to exist without it, without Kathryn. And I was just now, as I stared at her beautiful face, realizing that the death of those unspoken promises was the birth of the tiny, insidious seed of hopelessness I could suddenly feel washing over me.

That hopelessness killed the rage, swamped it and overran it until it fizzled and died, leaving me more weary than I could recall ever being before. My limbs were leaden as I flicked off the terminal and moved into the bedroom, preparing for bed with automatic and unthinking movements. I stared at the ceiling above the bed until it lightened with the new day, slipping into a dreamless sleep sometime after dawn.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

I found myself before the terminal again, just before sunset the next evening; after my uneasy night, I'd slept most of the day. My hand hovered over the keypad, and I took a deep breath and pasted a smile on my face before I hit the right button. After a moment, B'Elanna's smiling face filled the small screen.

"Chakotay!"

"Hello, B'Ela. I realize it's short notice, but... I felt like having dinner in Old Town this evening. You and Tom interested?"

Her smile wavered slightly, and I felt my heart sink. "I... that sounds good, but Tom and -- we're just heading out to meet Harry and Grace. Sam and Naomi are watching Miral for the night." She paused, and I could practically hear her grinding her teeth. "You and Seven are more than welcome to come. I'm sure Harry would love to see you both."

I dropped my eyes from the screen. "Thanks, but -- "

"Why am I not surprised?" she muttered.

"Seven's on her way to Vulcan. I doubt she'll be coming back."

There was silence, and I finally looked up. Her mouth was open slightly, and I couldn't help but smile. B'Elanna speechless was a rare and wondrous sight. Her mouth snapped shut and I could see compassion in her eyes.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not."

Her eyes narrowed. "Listen, you big idiot. I _am_ sorry. For you. I know you think I hate Seven, but that's not true! I just want to see you happy, Chakotay! And you weren't. Were you?" she asked pointedly, and I sighed. "Didn't think so." She looked away briefly, and I could hear Tom's voice in the distant background. "Are you going to be okay? Do you want me to come -- "

"I'm fine, B'Ela. Go, have fun. Say hello to Harry and Grace for me."

"You can come, you know."

The thought of being with the four of them weighed heavily in my mind. "No. Thank you, though, for the invitation. I'll talk to you soon."

"I'll call you tomorrow," she said firmly. Then her voice and her face softened. "Take care of yourself, old man," she murmured, signing off.

I stared at the blank screen for a while before my mind wandered and my gaze roamed the walls of the apartment. I stood resolutely. _I have to get out of here._ Dinner in Old Town was sounding better and better. Preferably with a stiff drink. Or several.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

"Is that who I think it is?"

The question was loudly whispered from somewhere off to my left, and I cursed my training and years of experience, both Maquis and Starfleet, which insistently told me to pay attention to every movement, every comment, and every gesture around me. I just wanted to eat in peace, and yet, I felt like I was in a fishbowl.

In the time since Voyager's return, public interest had gradually lessened, and up until recently, it had been possible to go out, either alone or in a group, without attracting more than a few curious stares. Over the last few weeks or so, though, the press had started with the inevitable "one year later" stories, and now I could feel gazes assaulting me from every direction. With a sigh, I downed my drink, signaling the waiter -- who was conveniently staring at me -- for another.

"He's alone. That's weird." Someone off to the right.

A year. Had it really been a year? I thought of how much Miral had grown since Voyager's return to the Alpha Quadrant, and I smiled. She was proof that yes, it had been a year. And what a year, for some of our crew. Tom and B'Elanna, highly respected and sought after consultants in their fields, were considering adding to their family. Harry Kim -- a full lieutenant now, and I'd heard rumors he was on the fast track for yet another promotion -- was engaged to be married in the fall. The Doctor was installed -- _literally_ , I chuckled to myself -- at Starfleet Medical, head of their new Delta Xenobiology department, lording it over anyone who would listen to him. I realized I had no idea what Tuvok was up to; he'd been on leave, but it seemed like it should be ending soon. _I'll ask... no_. I closed my eyes wearily; asking Seven about Tuvok's plans was no longer an option.

I tried to skim over that thought; thinking of Seven's departure was not how I wanted to spend my dinner. But my efforts at evasion only led me directly to contemplation of the one person whose name I'd been mentally trying to avoid all night. I set my fork down on my half-full plate. The food tasted like ashes to me, but the scotch was damn good.

I had no idea what Kathryn was doing, or how she was, or even if she planned to be at the big reunion next week. _A reunion to which I will now be going alone_ , I realized with a sigh.

"I heard he got dropped by that borg." Behind me somewhere, and that was the last straw.

Barely stifling a growl, I finished my scotch and settled my bill, desperate to get out of the restaurant. I did my best not to stalk through the building, but my stride faltered momentarily when I saw the small crowd patiently waiting beyond the elegant glass doors. _Great. Press._ I probably would have been more inclined to be polite if the scotch hadn't been so good. As it was, it's a good thing nobody tried to actually stop me, though they all stepped directly in front of me into a tightly drawn group.

I pushed carefully through the throng, saying nothing and trying not to jostle anyone more than necessary. I ignored the cacophony as best as I could, but bits and pieces broke through, hammering themselves into my head.

"Commander, is it true -- "

"Where's Seven of Nine?"

"Can you comment on the rumors that -- "

" -- know what the future of Voyager will be?"

"There is news of a promotion -- "

" -- sudden trip to Vulcan?"

"Any word of Captain Janeway -- "

The last one got through to me, and I closed my eyes, profoundly grateful that I had passed the last of the little group, for they would have surely seen my reaction. I began walking quicker, disregarding the curious glances that came my way from every direction. _Kathryn. I have to talk to Kathryn._

=/\= =/\= =/\=

My resolution faltered and returned several times during the journey back to my apartment. I sat, staring at the comm terminal yet again, unsure of my next move. Though the effects of the alcohol had mostly burned off, I wasn't sure that my judgment wasn't impaired; the scotch had been real. Then, I realized that if I was lucid enough to question my judgment, it was probably okay, and then I switched on the terminal before I could argue myself into any more of a circle.

I had no idea if Kathryn was even checking her comm messages, wherever she was. Tom probably knew, through Owen, but any mention of Kathryn had been carefully avoided in my presence, whether or not Seven was with me. It was the only thing I could try though. And I had to try. Everything in my life was upside down, and she was... she had been the only thing that had ever made things right within me. And I needed her to know that.

I set up a message, queuing it to send to her after I was done, and then I took a deep breath and began.

"Kathryn."

The silence stretched out until I finally forced myself to go on.

"I don't know if you will receive this, or even if you'll listen to it if you do get it. But there are some things I have to tell you, some things that I... that we never got a chance to discuss. I've been doing some thinking..." I laughed harshly at myself.

"That's all I've been doing, the past couple of days, since Seven booked a one way ticket to Vulcan. It wasn't just her decision though. Things haven't been right between us since... well, since the beginning. They could never be right between me and her. Because... because I love _you_."

The words rushed out of me, and I felt an enormous weight lift from me at the freedom of finally saying them, of finally acknowledging what had been a part of me for so long.

"I have always loved you, Kathryn, and I always will. I was lost and confused for a time, and I gave up hope. I don't know what you feel for me, I gave up on trying to decipher your feelings years ago, and maybe that was the problem. But I have to believe... I have to believe that the reason you're avoiding me -- the reason you've cut me off -- is that... you care too much. Because the alternative... I can't think the alternative."

I stopped for a moment, willing my voice to stop trembling.

"I can't believe that it's because you don't care for me at all. That you never have. That I was only a colleague, not even a friend."

I was proud of myself. I'd kept the plea out of the tone of my voice, despite my desire, my _need_ to beg her to write me, call me, see me, somehow tell me that that wasn't the truth at all.

"I told you once, Kathryn, that you brought me peace. It's still true. You have always been the only one who could do so. Please understand, I am not trying to apologize or justify myself or ask for forgiveness. I just wanted... needed you to know. It's been hidden -- I've been hiding it -- for far too long. I hope that... well... Just be happy, Kathryn. Whatever you do, be happy."

Before I could change my mind or talk myself out of it, I hit the send button. Fear suddenly clawed frantically at me, and for a fraction of a second, I would have done _anything_ to get that message back. But it was gone. And I realized that I was glad, and relieved. I'd been right. All those words needed to be said. I made my way to my bed, though it was early. And even though I'd possibly thrown my life into even more turmoil, I was strangely peaceful.

=/\= =/\= =/\=

I woke before dawn. Without being conscious of what I was doing, I hurried to the comm terminal, swearing energetically when I smacked my shin on an end table in the dark. My optimistic mood died a quick death when I saw there were no messages waiting. _What did you really expect?_

Dressing quickly, I went out for a walk. The morning was beautiful. Crisp and clear, unhampered by the fog that had characterized San Francisco for centuries. The sky was painted in reds and golds and pinks, but its beauty left me empty. I nodded politely at the few people I passed, smiling sadly when I caught sight of a lone female figure in the distance, being pulled along by a dog nearly half her size.

I'd just decided to walk once more around the perimeter of the park when I caught a flash of auburn hair in the light of the newly risen sun. My breath caught in my throat, my heart pounding painfully as I saw a delicate form nestled against the broad chest of an unfamiliar man. She was laughing up at him, and it was only when she turned slightly that I realized it wasn't her. My breath rushed from me with the realization, and it was only then that I noticed how small the woman was. She was even tinier than my Kathryn.

My heart ached as the words I'd thought echoed through my mind. I hadn't really thought of her as mine in... years, probably. And I should not have done so even then. She was never mine. Turning abruptly, I headed for home. I needed a vacation. I was going to pack, and then leave. And maybe never come back. _Just make sure you have comm access,_ a tiny part of my brain whispered, and I sighed.

Dark thoughts filled my head as I trudged home and up the stairs through my building. The peculiar peace I'd felt the night before was completely gone. I raised my eyes from the floor as I reached my door, and I stopped, dumbstruck.

"Hello, Chakotay," she murmured, the corner of her mouth quirking up in the grin I knew so well.

I blinked at her. It was all I could manage.

"I got your message."

When I still said nothing, she laughed, and the hair on the back of my neck rose at the beautiful sound.

"And you were so eloquent last night... Chakotay, I need your help."

I nodded warily. She was right. My entire vocabulary seemed to have vanished. She looked down at her hands, folded gracefully in front of her, and then back up at me.

"I... I need a date for the reunion."

That broke my paralysis. Pain washed over me, swiftly followed by a quickly mounting rage. I opened my mouth to tear into her, but the words once again left me when I felt her tiny palm cupping my cheek. I stared into those beautiful blue oceans, lost in them, blown away by the love and the fear and the sorrow I could suddenly see there, so clearly. Strange, when they'd been such a mystery to me for so long, that I could see everything in them now.

"I'm going to need one for dinner at Owen's house the night before. And one to brunch at Harry's family's home the morning after. And I'm going to need one to the reunion next year too," she said with a shaky smile. "And the year after that. In fact, it's pretty much a permanent position. Do you know anyone who might be interested?"

I nodded again, and she laughed, and then she was kissing me, her lips soft and warm against my own. My thoughts followed my vocabulary, winging their way out of my overwhelmed mind. Ranks, press, reunions, postings, rumors -- all of that just disappeared as I held my future in my arms at last.


End file.
